


Lillies to Your Summer

by tobstertoaster



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, FrUK, M/M, more characters will be added later lmao, oh boy lets go lets go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobstertoaster/pseuds/tobstertoaster
Summary: After a heart attack, Francis finds that he can't feel any emotion at all.
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i changed england's name from arthur to jack because i thought it'd fit better :')

The world melded around Francis the moment he fluttered his eyes open. He reached out through the blindness, grasping at the air. “Jack? Jack?” His voice cracked as he desperately tried to cling onto something, anything, until he felt England’s familiar warm touch on the back of his hand. “I’m right here.” Jack’s voice was comforting, soothing. Their fingers interlocked, their palms gently pressing together. England gingerly led France’s hand back down to his side. “Rest.” He uttered softly, letting go of Francis who immediately reached for his hand again.

“Please don’t leave.”  
“You’ve always been clingy, you know that?”  
“I know, mon cher. I know.” 

“Besides. I’m not leaving until you do. I’ve made that very clear to the doctors.” England sighed, pulling his chair up close to the other’s bed. “I haven’t left for a week, you know that? Be grateful.” This caused Francis to laugh, beaming brightly. It made his heart skip a beat. “Well, I’m very grateful, Angleterre. How did you manage to stay here for so long?”   
“Intimidation.”  
"That’s so you.”  
They remained in silence, the only sounds being the birds’ chirps. “Why am I here?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows, his mouth a thin line. Jack sighed. “About a week ago, we were on our usual date. That restaurant you love so much, remember?”   
“I remember very well.”  
“Yes. You fainted.”  
“I- What? Why?”  
“No clue. Your heart gave out. I was terrified. That never happens to us unless something major happened to our country. However...I checked. No news. Your country was doing fine. I was convinced you died right there.” 

Francis laughed.

“Can’t kill a country. Especially not one as great as me!”

“Be quiet.”

France kept that smile on his face as he moved his head away from Jack’s. “I don’t know why it happened either. I wish I could tell you why, but I don’t have any recollection of that night. Just...darkness.” His expression turned a little more somber as he moved his hand away from England’s. “That’s understandable. You did hit your head pretty hard.” After another moment's silence, Francis turned away from Jack. “I’m going back to sleep. Can’t do much without your sight, right?” Jack froze. “You lost your- Alright. We’ll talk about that later.” Francis smiled. “Awwww. You’re worried about me. Je t’aime.” 

“I love you too.”

* * *

That following morning, Francis woke up with his sight regained. He sat up in bed, glancing over to England, sleeping with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Normally, he would find that cute. Normally, he’d stifle a laugh and mumble how cute he was. But instead, there was nothing. In fact, he couldn’t feel...anything. He placed a hand on his heart, feeling a dark, empty void swirling in his chest. The rhythmic beat was gone. Francis froze, shakily inhaling as he turned his head toward the window. It was a bright, sunny day outside. The sun shone on England’s soft, fluffy hair, illuminating all his facial features perfectly. He leaned his body closer to England, placing his hand directly on his heart.

Badump. Badump. Badump.

There it was. It was just him. Jack’s eyes slowly opened, half lidded. “Hey, dummy. What are you doing?” He sleepily looked up at his face, and Francis drew his hand away. “Ah, sorry! Just wanted to make...sure you were still breathing.” He raised his hands up defensively. “Of course I can breathe, git. I’ve been doing it for thousands of years.” He sighed. “I assume you can finally see?” He asked, tilting his head, crossing his arms yet again. “Oui.” With that, Jack threw himself into Francis’s arms. He held him close to him, needy. Too afraid to let go, Francis thought to himself as he ran his fingers through his lover’s hair. He didn’t feel relief, he didn’t feel happy either. His face was deadpan as he held the other man close to him. Jack sighed happily, feeling every emotion overcome him at once. He felt so relieved, joyful, fortunate, in love. 

And Francis felt nothing at all.


	2. Back home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter!! im juggling between art, health, and school! :') I hope you like this chapter!

Jack placed a ceramic mug in front of Francis, as the steam emanated from the hot chocolate inside. With delicate hands, he took the mug up to his lips and drank. It was sweet with a tang of bitterness,with marshmallows floating on the top of the beverage. “It’s delicious, Angleterre. Thank you.” He sighed softly after setting it down, a gentle smile to his lips. “It’s fine. It was no big deal, really.” Jack huffed, crossing his arms and sitting down across from him. “The cooking classes you’ve been taking have really been paying off.” Francis replied, staring out the sliding glass door. They left the hospital at six this morning. It was currently nine. 

The other man smiled softly, immediately trying to hide it by turning his head and resting it on his hand. “Thank you. You know, Alfred actually complimented me a week ago. Before our date, I made oven mac and cheese. With the little bread crumbs and everything. He ate his entire plate as well!” He seemed so prideful. Francis smiled, nodding. “I’m happy for you.” Jack furrowed his eyebrows, leaning in a bit closer. “Are you alright? Usually my egoticism makes you laugh.” He waved it off, still keeping that strained grin on his face. “I’m alright. Just tired.”

“Liar. I know you’re more giggly when you’re exhausted.”   
“I’m telling the truth. Cross my heart.”   
“Is something on your mind? You know you can always talk to me.”  
“Jack, please.”  
“Suit yourself.”

England leaned back. “Alright. Go get some rest, will you? I’ll make some food for you. Any recommendations?” He got up, making his way to the kitchen. “Anything’s fine. Merci beaucoup. Maybe some soup?” Francis replied, standing up from his chair to head to the bedroom. Their bedroom. “Sure. Chicken noodle?” France restrained the urge to cringe. He tried to dismiss the thought of not eating something of restaurant quality, England is only trying after all. “Oui! I’d eat anything you create, mon cher. Even if it’s horrible."   
“Oi! My cooking has been getting better!”  
“I wasn’t saying that it was bad.”  
Jack smiled, rolled his eyes, and started to prepare the dish.

Francis entered the bedroom, sitting down on the bed. He sighed and laid back, arms crossed behind his head. Leaving the hospital was hell. Before departing, the nurses had to take his vitals and of course, were surprised by the lack of a heartbeat. He made up a half-lie; “I’m a country! The entirety of France. Just look at my papers. We don’t have heartbeats.” And after them looking through hundreds of years of documents, they looked up at him with a smile. “Ah! You’re Mr.France. How could I forget?” Then, he was dismissed and allowed to enter the car, where Jack was waiting.

He took his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his contacts. There was no way that he _couldn’t_ talk about this with someone. However, that someone has to be anyone but Jack. France knew that would kill him from the inside, and he couldn’t bear to be the reason. He knew he couldn’t tell Alfred, certainly not Matthew, and definitely not Monaco. America can’t keep his trap shut for the life of him, Canada would blame himself somehow, and Monaco...she worries too much. After a few minutes of swiping through both human acquaintances and countries, his eyes landed on one of his closest friends. He sat up immediately and dialed his phone number, lifting the phone to his ear.

_Ring_

_Ring_

_Ring…_

The recipient picks up, relief washing over Francis almost too quickly. “Hey Italy? Can I come over to your house tomorrow? I...need some help.”


End file.
